RTW: Prom!
The Road Trip Wednesday article has gone up on the YA Highway blog. This week, the challenge is: It’s almost prom season, and since we love to read and write about teenagers, we want to hear your prom stories!
At first my response was “Sorry, I went to school in the UK, we didn’t do proms, so I have nothing to contribute!” But then I had a moment similar to Hermione’s in HARRY POTTER AND THE PHILOSOPHER’S STONE–you know, where they’re in the pit and she’s panicking over where to find fire, and the boys remind her, “You’re a witch!” to which she says “oh yes,” and conjures fire? Well, no sooner had I posted my apology on the YA Highway blog than it hit me: “you’re a fiction writer, idiot–make something up!” So here’s a very very short piece called…
PROM
Phoebe Parks is wearing blue. The long gown flows over her body like the sea over rocks–effortless and elegant, rippling against her legs as she walks over to the punch bowl. I sit at a small round table, watching in awe as she picks up two cups. Always thinking of others, that’s my Phoebe. I can’t help but admire the grace with which she handles the punch ladle, gently scooping up liquid and depositing it into the cups in one arc, without a splash. Now she’s talking to one of the guys at the table. That’s okay; she has such a warm personality, of course people want to talk to her. And she’s so generous with her time. The guy is Peter Scott, and he’s wearing a tuxedo with brightly polished shoes and a red carnation in his button hole. Much nicer than my suit and tie, but Phoebe’s not one to be impressed with appearances. She’s deep like that. Now they’ve finished talking, and she’s moving away from the table, dodging around dancing couples with such artistry she could be a figure skater. She’s walking this way. There’s Mark Ward in his white suit. Phoebe hands him his drink. They kiss. I sigh. It was a nice dream while it lasted.
So, what’s your prom story? Tell the folks at YA Highway by writing a blog article and posting a link to in the Road Trip Wednesday article comments.
Oh no! So sad. Beautifully described dress, though.
Thanks, Liz. 🙂
Oh, poor guy! I was hoping Phoebe would come over and give the second cup to him. I love the description of her dress and the way she moves – it made me imagine a mermaid. Perfect, because mermaids/sirens are unattainable!
Oh cool! I love it when I accidentally do stuff that makes me look clever. That whole “unattainable” thing is exactly what I was going for. Thanks, Julie. 😀
That was really good. Felt bad for the guy though. He really likes her. Nice imagery though, I liked the dress described and lets face it I’m a girl and at prom the dress was a huge part 😉
Thanks, Eve. Yeah, I knew I couldn’t get away with a prom story without at least mentioning the dress. I’m glad you liked it. 🙂
Aww… how sad! I’ve totally been there.
Aww, Crystal! 🙁 I’m sure a lot of us have at one time or another.
Way to go, Colin! I love that you decided to show your writing magic for that story 😀
I could totally picture Phoebe and the way he probably looks at her, very nicely done!
Thanks, Elodie. What can I say? I can’t resist a fiction challenge. And after the last couple of Monday stories, this was a good opportunity to do something non-creepy. Though still with a bit of a twist at the end. One day, I’m going to write a story where the twist is… everything happens just as you expect! 🙂
Very cute! It reminds me of that Reba McEntire song about how this perfect guy wants to get married…and at the end she sings, “but not to me”
I don’t think I’ve heard the song, but yeah, that’s the sentiment. Thanks, Jennifer. 🙂
How clever of you, Colin. I love the story (very relatable guy), and I laughed out loud at your “Hermione” moment!
Thanks, Jessica! That’s actually one of my favorite moments from PHILOSOPHER’S STONE. 🙂
Cute, but sad story. Your title dropping of “Philosopher’s Stone” as opposed to “Sorcerer’s Stone” means either you’re a true Potter nut or possibly British.
Thanks, Alex. Both–well, I’m an ex-pat Brit, and I have major issues with the changing of the name of the first Potter novel. It makes no sense, and it’s demeaning to American kids (as if they wouldn’t know any more than British kids–or couldn’t find out–what the “philosopher’s stone” is). I could rant, but I’ll spare you. 🙂
Colin!
I found you! Whenever I clicked your username thing on my blog, there was never a link to your blog! Finally I found you through my stats page. 🙂
I love your Hermionie moment. Nice story, poor guy. 🙂
Kimberly
Kimberly!
I’m so sorry! I just assume when I see my little face in your comments that all my information behind it is present and correct. I’ll have to look into that.
Thanks… yeah, poor guy. It’s a shame he caught me when I’m in a “stories-with-a-twist” mood (see my stories for the last three Mondays), otherwise he might have been luckier. 🙂
Lovely flash-fiction! Now, like someone else said today, all my knowledge of school in England comes from Harry Potter, so I just imagined that English teenagers had formal dances, too, like in GOF. Not so?
Thanks, Laurie! When I was at school, there weren’t any regular school-sponsored dances outside of the once-a-term school discos that were held in the cafeteria. I think there were the occasional balls and formal dances, but they would have been put on by students, or parents of students. And I’m speaking from my school experience, which was a very old private Cathedral school–not the typical state-run school.